Tickle Me Lassie
by Shi-Toyu
Summary: Shawn finds out something interesting about Lassiter...and he's more than willing to take advantage. All the while, O'Hara wants him to tell the grumpy detective how he feels. Shassie. Slash.


A/N: This is something inspired by my wonderful beta, devorador. She puts up with so much and I appreciate her even more! (She even reads fandoms she's not interested in for me.) Well, I hope you all enjoy!

Tickle Me Lassie

It started out as an accident, really. It wasn't what Shawn had intended to happen…but he was so glad it did. He'd been in the middle of a psychic vision, flailing about, business as usual. What wasn't usual was the undignified, unexpected, and decidedly unmanly yelp Lassiter had let out when Shawn's fingers had lightly brushed his sides.

Shawn stopped mid-vision to stare at the now-blushing detective. Lassiter's expression darkened and he attempted to cover his slip with anger.

"I think that'll be quite enough of your ridiculousness, Shawn. Perhaps you'd like to see yourself out, now? We don't need you on this one."

The chief let her gaze linger on the detective before sliding over to their resident psychic. She lay her palms flat against her desk.

"Detective Lassiter is right, Mr. Spencer. The case has already been solved. It was an _accident_, not a murder."

With his case threatened, and therefore his paycheck, Shawn found his mind diverted from Lassiter's startling revelation. He wasn't able to get back to it until almost a week later when he ran into Lassie at the Smoothie Shack. He'd greeted the man with a shout and a hug, hoping to startle him. Instead, as his arms slid around Lassiter's sides, he was greeted by a delicious shiver.

He smiled wickedly up at the man in his arms.

"Ticklish, Lassie? Why, I had no idea…"

Lassiter scowled at him.

"Remove your hands from me, Shawn, or so help me I _will_ shoot you."

Shawn backed off, a grin spreading across his face and hands held up in a placating manner.

"Come now, Lassie, you'd totally get in trouble for that!"

"Oh, I think the chief would understand."

"You know, I'm not so sure about that. Not sure if you'd heard, but I have a rather impressive solve rate on the cases I've worked."

Lassiter scowled and turned away from him to move up in the line.

"Yeah, I'm just not sure if it's worth the nuisance of dealing with you."

"Ouch! That hurts." He laid a hand dramatically over his heart. "That hurts right here."

Lassiter just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, Spencer. Just keep your hands to yourself from now on."

That, of course, was just like a free invitation for Shawn to touch the detective as much as possible, as often as possible. He quickly learned which touches brought out the best reactions. A light, feathery touch while Lassiter was interviewing a witness would have him tensed up and stuttering. A sharp grab and flutter of fingers after sneaking up on him in the station would make the detective jump and shout before shooting him a wicked glare.

But Shawn's favorite reaction, his absolute favorite, wasn't any of those. His favorite reaction came when he could corner Lassiter against the wall, his desk, any barrier really. He'd press in close and his fingers would dance across the detective's sides. That hard body would wiggle and twitch against him, jerking in the most delicious of ways. Carlton's face would flush and he would gasp for breath in between bouts of laughter and giggles. His tempting lips would pull into a grin and his eyes would squeeze shut. He'd tilt his head back and expose that column of flesh that made Shawn want to lean forward and bite.

It was so hard to resist ravaging Lassiter in those moments, at a crime scene, in the middle of the station, against his car right after an arrest with all the uniforms there to watch. Sometimes his body would move just right, brushing up against Shawn in a way that had him clenching his jaw to keep from moaning.

And Shawn, well he was never very good at resisting temptation.

When Shawn arrived at the station to pick up his check for a recent case, he made a beeline towards Lassiter's desk. He'd been having way too much fun with this tickling thing. To his disappointment, though, the grumpy detective's chair was empty.

"You just missed him."

The 'psychic' turned to grin at O'Hara, trying to hide his disappointment.

"My, my, detective. It's such a pleasure to be greeted by a beautiful face like yours."

O'Hara smiled right back at him, a knowing gleam in her eye.

"Actually, Shawn, I'm glad you're here. There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"There is?"

The brunette's curiosity was piqued and he trotted after the detective towards her desk. She took a seat behind it and indicated for Shawn to take the seat across from her. Suddenly nervous, he gave her a quizzical look.

"Look, Shawn, I've just noticed things have been a bit…touchy between you and Detective Lassiter lately."

He forced out a laugh, really not wanting to talk about this.

"You think so?"

She leveled him with a look that said not to play around.

"You can't have expected me _not_ to notice how you always reach for him, much less your reaction when you actually have him. I'm not blind." Her voice softened. "But neither is Lassiter."

Shawn bit his lip and nodded.

"I know, I just…I've never felt this way about a, you know, a guy before. And for it to be _Lassie_ of all people…"

O'Hara's face lit up like it was Christmas before she schooled her expression back into neutrality.

"So you _do_ like him, then?"

Shawn let himself go limp in the chair, slumping back into it.

"Yeah…Not that it'll ever come to anything…"

The blonde nearly jumped forward, grabbing one of his hands in both of her own. Her expression was earnest.

"You need to tell him, Shawn. He's going to figure it out eventually anyway and it would be better if he hears it from you." He was about to protest when she spoke again. "Besides, you might have more of a chance than you think…"

"How so?"

"Well, Lassiter's eyes always track you in a room and the only reason he tries to keep you off of cases is because he's worried about you getting hurt. He might act like he doesn't like you touching him, but I can tell that's a lie."

Shawn's eyes searched her gaze for any hint of doubt.

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

His gaze trailed back to Lassiter's desk.

"I don't know, Juliet…Mr. Heterosexuality is secretly gay and into the irritating psychic detective? Doesn't seem very likely."

"Trust me, Shawn. I'm his partner and I can tell when he's interested in somebody…and he's more than a little interested in you."

"I just don't see it. I mean, come on, Jules."

She stood and pulled him to his feet, giving him a little shove away from her desk.

"He's looking for a file in the cold case room. No one ever goes in there. Just…go talk to him, okay?"

Reluctantly, Shawn turned and headed that way. It took him barely a minute to get to the room Juliet was talking about and he hesitated outside of the door before opening it silently. The room had no windows and just rows of filing cabinets. He could see Lassiter across the room, elbow deep in a cabinet with his back turned. Shawn quietly shut the door behind him, turned the lock, and crept toward the other man. The opportunity was too good, he couldn't pass it up.

His feet didn't make a sound as he crept across the room, slowly edging closer to his victim. 10 feet, 7 feet, 5, 4…He lunged, aiming dancing fingers for the unsuspecting man's sides.

"Hey, Lassie!"

The effect was instantaneous, a full-body jerk before the man spun around, chest heaving and eyes burning. It was ridiculously hot.

"Shawn! What do you think you're doing?"

The brunette ignored him, pressing closer until Lassiter's retreat had closed the drawer he'd been searching through and he was flush up against its surface. He buried his face in the detective's neck, planting a kiss to the skin there which always taunted him, and let his hands find purchase on the other's hips. He felt the other's body stiffen against him, the muscles tensing.

"Spencer…"

There was a warning in the detective's tone, and Shawn pulled back just enough to smirk at him.

"Don't worry, I already locked the door."

Muscles relaxed and strong arms reached out to complete their embrace.

"Well, then…I guess you've thought of everything."

"Mostly this…"

Shawn leaned forward to kiss Carlton, lips moving in tandem. He let one hand trailed down the other's side, earning a delicious shiver, before reaching to the back to squeeze Lassiter's…assets. They kissed for several minutes before he pulled back, just enough to rest his head on the detective's chest. He liked listening to the other's heartbeat. Closing his eyes and smiling, he savored just being here with him.

"Juliet is onto us, you know."

He opened his eyes and saw Carlton staring down at him with eyebrows raised.

"She knows we're together?"

"Not quite. She sat me down and told me I needed to confess my feelings to you, that she was sure you liked me back and it was better for you to hear it from me. She sent me down here to talk to you and think about confessing."

Lassiter smirked.

"Well, I always have been rather good at getting confessions." He swooped down and stole a quick kiss. "After all, I got yours nearly six months ago."

Shawn raised an eyebrow.

"Rather full of yourself, aren't you?"

Lassiter flipped them before Shawn even knew what was happening and the smaller man felt himself pressed against the filing cabinets. The detective's obvious want pushed against him as the taller ground their hips together. He leaned in close to Shawn's ear and spoke in a husky voice.

"Play your cards right, _psychic_, and you could be full of me, too."

Shawn's eyes fluttered shut and he bit back a groan. That voice was downright sinful, and Carlton knew full well the things it did to Shawn's libido. Well, two could play that game.

The shorter man yanked the detective impossibly closer, one hand pulling him by the hair just enough to bring his head back far enough to kiss him. He ravaged Carlton's mouth, sucking and nipping his lips in a way he knew would leave them swollen and rosy. Carlton growled and kissed back with just as much passion and desire.

As soon as the detective was well and thoroughly distracted, Shawn let loose his plan.

He attacked the detective's side with a vengeance, fingers flying over the fabric of his button-up shirt. The move clearly surprised the other man and he yelps and reeled backwards, slamming into the filing cabinets opposite. Shawn followed after him, continuing his assault as the normally stern detective dissolved into laughter.

"Sh-Shawn! Sh-Shawn, sto-op!"

But Shawn didn't stop. He loved the sight of Lassie's face, flushed and bright, as the man gasped for air. The grin on his own face grew as the detective slid down the filing cabinets, unable to support himself as his body was wracked with laughter. He didn't stop until Carlton was laid out on the floor, with Shawn straddling his lap.

After giving him a moment to catch his breath, Shawn leant down to give his a quick peck on the lips.

"Tell you what, Detective Lassiter, later on tonight," he kissed him again, "when you get off work," another kiss, "I'll be waiting at your place," this kiss was longer, more drawn out, "and you can show me just what it's like to be in those handcuffs of yours."

Carlton grinned, this time for a different reason.

"Deal."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! This is my first foray into the Psych fandom. (I'm only through watching season 4) I hope to be back before too long, though! Let me know what you think!


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